


You have seen some unbelievable things

by MsEllieJane



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Missing Scene, episode 1X14, sometimes it helps to talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 21:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13644579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsEllieJane/pseuds/MsEllieJane
Summary: Missing scene from episode 14. Kat pours whiskey, Michael listens.





	You have seen some unbelievable things

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on the missing scene after Michael shows up at Admiral's quarters in the middle of the night. Inspired by [Liz's amazing essay](http://liz-squids.tumblr.com/post/170629913662/kat-cornwell-is-not-okay-and-im-here-for-that). This is completely unbeta-ed, my apologies in advance. I just wanted to get it up before the season finale!
> 
> Title from [Cross Bones Style](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84O5r1wqL0o) by Cat Power

“Huh.” 

Michael remained silent, watching a spectrum emotions play across the Admiral’s face as she contemplated the proposed plan.  She knew it was a long shot but at this point they didn’t have many options. 

“Ok,” she said, nodding, “let’s do it.” 

“Really? You think it will work?” Michael was a bit stunned at such quick reply. She had expected an onslaught of follow-up questions and a lot more doubt.

“Honestly, I have no idea if it will work, but it’s the first plan I’ve heard that has even a small chance of working.” She sighed and curled up in the armchair, suddenly looking very vulnerable. “I’ve been faced with nothing but abject defeat and impossible scenarios for the past nine months. It wears on the soul and leaves one increasingly amenable to taking risks as long as there is a glimmer of hope.”

“Thank you for putting your faith in me.” Michael found herself looking down at her hands. “I know that hope is in short supply, but I’m glad to have provided a little more of it. I still can’t imagine what it has been like for all of you while we were gone”

“I could say the same about you and the Discovery crew. Sarek has briefed me on what he learned from Saru about your experience. Including some details he didn’t share with the others.” She trailed off, before a look of anger bloomed on her face.”I wish I could resurrect that hateful bastard and kill him again. Slowly.” Her hands twitched with the effort of not balling them up into fists.

They were both silent for a moment and Michael felt a familiar sense of awkwardness creep up her spine until the Admiral reached for the bottle sitting on the table next to her. She took one of the two glasses and handed it to Burnham who silently accepted it, trying to understand the meaning behind this gesture. Cornwell poured them each two fingers of whiskey and raised her glass in a toast.

“To long-shot plans and almost-impossible scenarios.” She reached her glass out to clink it and Michael suddenly realized it was customary to reply with a toast as well. She quickly racked her brain and blurted out the first thing that came to mind

“To the real Gabriel Lorca, a man I wish I had met.” Cornwell’s face went dark for a moment and Michael regretted her choice of words. 

“I wish you had too, he was a good man.” Cornwell took a sip and looked up at the ceiling for moment. When her eyes met Michael’s again, they were filled with barely-restrained tears. “He was someone I had known for a long time and cared about deeply.” 

Michael had suspected as much when Cornwell had described him as “my Gabriel” earlier. She didn’t know exactly what had transpired between the Admiral and Mirror Lorca, but had her suspicions. She remembered finding the woman in front of her face-down in a pool of blood, completely shattered and unable to walk. All because she got in the way of that monster’s plan for galactic domination. It infuriated her that he would use a decades-long relationship as a tool for manipulation. She took a larger than normal sip of whiskey, hoping to burn those thoughts out of her brain.

“I lost him nine months ago, believing the last words I spoke to him were in anger.” She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to stop more tears from forming. “Now I’ve lost him all over again. It feels like a very bad dream.” She shook her head, scattering those thoughts, and looked straight at Michael.

“I apologize, I shouldn’t have been so candid. It was inappropriate.” She brushed the tears from her face, looking abashed. 

“It wasn’t at all inappropriate,” Michael replied sincerely. “War has blurred the lines of chain of command and left us all shaken. It has also given us the opportunity to help each other through this shared trauma. It’s all we have left.” Cornwell sighed and nodded, taking another sip of whiskey.

“You sound just like me in my old job.” When Michael looked confused, she continued. “I was a psychiatrist with Starfleet Medical for many years before pursuing command. During that time, I helped many patients process trauma and grief, giving them the tools to work through it in a healthy manner. Of course, when it comes to fixing myself, I’ve been an utter failure.”

“I didn’t give myself time to grieve when the other Discovery was destroyed, there was too much to do. Instead of dealing with the trauma, I threw myself into fighting this war and learning to walk again, hoping it would be a sufficient distraction. Of course it wasn’t.” She took a sip and swirled the rest of the liquor around in her glass. “This time, I’m trying to do it the right way. Thank you for letting me talk this out.”

Michael nodded in acknowledgement, still feeling somewhat awkward despite the languid feeling the liquor brought. It struck her just how much Cornwell had been through in the past nine months, the unbelievable things she must have seen. It might not have been a twisted mirror universe, but it was her own universe torn apart slowly by an enemy that made no rational sense. The the mask of calm she tried to wear had slipped and utter devastation was painted across her face. 

“What was your Gabriel like?” Michael asked, wanting to change the subject and hoping the question would help Cornwell process her grief. Perhaps it would also satisfy her own curiosity about this man she had never met.

“He was very methodical, he thought everything through carefully and rarely made rash decisions. He was also a compassionate man, one who believed in fairness. When all of those qualities suddenly went out the window, I thought it was PTSD or something similar. I thought he was still haunted by the Buran, or perhaps it was his time in Klingon captivity. Believe me, that can do a number on you,” she said, shuddering. “Now I know he blew the Buran up to cover his tracks and it’s sickening.” She made a disgusted face and took another sip before continuing. 

“My Gabriel was quite charming, they did have that in common. And he was very funny, if you can believe it. He had a dry wit and a tendency to make deapan observations that would have me doubled over in laughter at the most inopportune times. He was also one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever known and I loved that about him, as much as it frustrated me at times.” Michael smiled at this, wishing she could have met this man.

“He introduced me to this stuff,” she said, gesturing with her glass. “Back in our Academy days, we used to sneak up to the roof of the physics building and pass a flask back and forth while watching the stars. The fortune cookie thing was all him too.” Michael look surprised at that.

“No really, he was obsessed with them. He always kept a bowl of them on his desk, just like the imposter did. I’m guessing that bastard picked up on it before he blew up the Buran and kept doing it once he got to Discovery.” She took another sip and grimaced. “God, he was horrifyingly good at fooling us all. He even knew Gabriel’s favorite brand.” She gestured at the bottle on the table. After a short pause, she continued. 

“My Gabriel used to give fortune cookies out at seemingly random times, but the fortunes  were always spot on. Just the right bit of advice you needed at the time. I don’t know if he wrote them himself or had them catalogued. Maybe he  just had uncanny intuition and a lot of luck. I kept the ones he gave me in a little box that’s sitting in storage back on earth.”

“Perhaps when all this is over, you can find that box and remember the man who gave them to you. It could provide some closure.” The Admiral smiled at that and Michael was glad to have helped. Emotions were still tricky to understand at times, but she recently had a great deal of experience with grief. 

“That’s not a bad idea, Specialist Burnham. If there is still an earth go back to when this is over, I hope to do that.” The sudden formality startled Michael, who had begun to relax. Her spine stiffened in response and the Admiral raised her eyebrows at that. A split second later, Cornwell realized the effect her choice of words had on Burnham. She reached a reassuring hand out, hoping to break the sudden tension.

“My apologies for the formality, I realize this isn’t formal situation.” She gestured around with her glass, pointing to her casual attire. “It's just a force of habit, one I suspect you understand all too well.” Michael nodded with a slight smile.

“You know me surprisingly well ma’am, though I suppose you have read my file.” 

“Of course, it would have been irresponsible of me not to when Gab--the imposter recruited you from that prison transport. I was unsure of his decision at the time, but you have proven that it was the right one, despite his ulterior motives. That reminds me…” She paused to finish off her glass and pour herself another splash, knowing she would probably regret it later but not caring.

“I want to offer you my deepest and most sincere thanks for saving my life. If it weren’t for your insistence to not leave anyone behind, I would be very dead right now.” Michael nodded her head in acknowledgement.

“It feels cheap just to say thank you and I wish I could do more. In another lifetime I would have been submitting your name for every possible commendation as well as for promotion. Even in this lifetime, I would have been calling in every favor I’m owed to get you pardoned and your commision restored.” She gave a sad smile and looked down at the glass in her hand.

“Now with most of Starfleet Command gone, I’m afraid you are stuck with your field commision and Specialist title for now. I hope to change that as soon as it’s possible.”

“I hope it doesn’t sound sycophantic of me to say that your thanks are enough, but they really are” Michael replied earnestly. “It took me a long time to realize it, but right now I’m exactly where I need to be. Commendations would be unnecessary trappings right now and I think I can do the most good in my current position.”

“Then I’m thankful fate brought you here.” The look on Cornwell’s face showed that she knew it wasn’t fate at all, but the machinations of a madman. They both knew it, but left it unsaid.

After a few moments of silence, Michael could tell by the thousand-yard stare on her face that Cornwell had said all she was able to for now. She gave the older woman a sad smile and placed her half-empty glass on the table. 

“Thank you for the drink, ma’am,” she said while slowly standing up, the whiskey making her unsteady. It wasn’t something she was used to drinking, but she had enjoyed the experience. 

“Thanks for listening to the incoherent ramblings of a battle-weary Admiral with nothing left to lose. Let’s just hope this final gambit works.”

“It think it just might, ma’am. Discovery has made it through some impossible situations and I have every faith that we can do it again.” She paused, taking in the sight of Cornwell curled up in her chair, staring at the glass in her hand. “Please try and get some sleep, ma’am.”

Cornwell looked up and nodded before fixing her gaze at the warp trails streaking by the window. Michael quietly made her way out of the room, looking back once more to see the Admiral brush tears from her cheek. As she made her way back to her quarters, she was filled with both hope and uneasiness, the two emotions warring in her heart. 

Sleep, she needed sleep. 


End file.
